It Wasn’t Me, It Was My Hand — Blame My Sleeve!

From the Strait of Hormuz to the killings in Dey: when no one accepts responsibility

Who does not remember that little childhood rhyme? ‘It wasn’t me, it was my hand — blame my sleeve!’ From preschool games to the school playground, we would repeat it with laughter. A child would get up to mischief and, when challenged, blame their hand, then pass the blame from hand to sleeve. No one was meant to be fooled: the excuse itself was the game.

But when the same method begins to resemble a government’s behaviour, it is no longer funny. The difference is that there we were dealing with childish mischief; here, with ships coming under attack, regional security, citizens’ lives and the fate of a country.

On 6 and 7 July 2026, three commercial ships were attacked in the Strait of Hormuz, a few weeks after the Islamabad memorandum of understanding between Iran and the United States. A Euronews report, citing Behzad Nabavi and New York Times sources, says that Masoud Pezeshkian had no prior knowledge of the operation and demanded an explanation from the commanders. According to the same report, Ahmad Vahidi, the commander-in-chief of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, also said that he had neither ordered the attack nor known about it.

By contrast, Hossein Mohebbi, the IRGC spokesman, announced that the operation had not been unauthorised and had been coordinated with higher authorities. The issue, then, is no longer simply that an attack took place. It is who that ‘higher authority’ was. How could the president and the IRGC commander-in-chief, according to the published accounts, have known nothing, while an operation of this importance had been coordinated higher up?

These accounts do not clarify every detail of the command structure. Earlier orders or delegated powers may have been involved. But clear answers are still missing: who issued the order, who had the authority to stop it, and which institution is responsible for investigating what happened?

Peace on paper, attacks on the water

The Islamabad memorandum was drawn up to halt hostilities and make dialogue possible. Its published text refers to stopping military operations and working towards the safe passage of commercial ships. The IRGC claims that the United States had breached its commitments, a claim that must be assessed against the text of the agreement and the precise sequence of events. Even if there was a serious dispute over the agreement’s implementation, was the dispute-resolution mechanism used? If not, why was a military attack chosen?

Gholamhossein Karbaschi, a former figure in the government, believes that Iran would have held the stronger negotiating position had those three ships not been attacked. This assessment is not definitive, but it shows that even within the political establishment there is debate about the cost of a lost opportunity.

In foreign policy, an agreement’s credibility rests on more than officials’ signatures. It also depends on operational orders reaching the relevant forces and being traceable. If a negotiator promises de-escalation while the authority responsible for military decisions remains unclear, what assurance can the other side have in negotiating? The question concerns the ability to fulfil a commitment, rather than the right to negotiate. In his speech on 14 October, Trump also said that he did not know whom he was negotiating with in Iran, although he made the remark in the context of American attacks and the deaths of senior officials, rather than simply internal disagreements.

International law does not recognise a sleeve as an excuse

International law also has an important principle for such a situation. Under Articles 4 and 7 of the draft articles on State responsibility, the conduct of official organs may be attributed to the State, even if officials exceed their authority or act contrary to instructions. Of course, establishing a wrongful act requires more than attribution: a breach of an international obligation must also be established. The binding nature of the Islamabad memorandum likewise requires separate examination. Even so, one point is clear: ‘I didn’t know’ is not, by itself, a sufficient legal answer.

From the ships to Iran’s streets

But the bitter irony does not end in the waters of Hormuz. When we turn to the killings of 18 and 19 Dey 1404, the game of passing blame to someone else acquires a graver meaning. Families who lost their loved ones are concerned with identifying those who killed them and those who gave the orders, rather than with verbal disputes.

The Islamic Republic has not denied that large numbers of citizens were killed, but has attributed much of the responsibility to ‘terrorist agents’. By contrast, in its September 2026 report, the United Nations’ independent fact-finding mission examined evidence concerning the suppression of the Dey protests and assessed many of the human rights violations within the framework of crimes against humanity. These findings cannot be set aside by pointing to disagreements between officials or repeating an official account.

Of course, the attacks on ships and the killing of protesters are two different cases, and individuals’ responsibility in each must be established separately. Their connection lies in the way a question is posed: when government institutions are involved, what mechanism establishes the truth and holds those responsible to account? Can someone hold the power to make decisions, yet pass responsibility to others when called to answer for them?

The international community need not wait for a confession to establish the truth. Witness testimony, images, documents and independent investigations can test official accounts. But knowing the truth does not mean that justice has been done. Governments negotiating with the Islamic Republic must also understand this distinction: without an accountable command authority and verifiable guarantees, a political promise may remain on paper.

The end of the childhood game

At preschool, we would laugh as we said: ‘It wasn’t me, it was my hand — blame my sleeve!’ In governing a country, however, neither hand nor sleeve has a separate legal personality that can accept responsibility. If an order was issued, the person who gave it must be identified; if a killing occurred, both the perpetrator and the person who ordered it must be investigated.

In those days, we blamed the sleeve and laughed. Today, the sleeves are stained with blood, and no one has the right to play games with human lives any longer.

S. Rouzbeh

S. Rouzbeh